


Running Cold and Hot

by quidamling



Category: Transform - Fandom - Fandom, Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: First Time, Human/Transformer Relationships (Transformers), M/M, Other, Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Training mission gone awry, Xenophilia, aka a whole lot of setup and then oh smut too, mentioned Sarah Lennox because I will not off or fridge her here, one bed? weak, we go for no bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quidamling/pseuds/quidamling
Summary: Military types are all about training.  Repetition.  Practice until everything is down to muscle memory.  As a blend of human and Cybertronian soldiers, NEST needs to make sure both species could handle anything that either world could throw at them.  Lennox and Ironhide are playing rabbit in field exercises when things go wrong, nearly very, very fucking wrong.  But maybe things will end up just as very fucking right.
Relationships: Ironhide/William Lennox, Sarah Lennox/William Lennox
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	Running Cold and Hot

Training. Simple training. Back after the weekend. Training.

Decepticons could crash land literally anywhere on the planet. NEST needed to be ready to jump and come down fighting in any terrain.

All of them lived in the high desert. NEST had that terrain covered. Keep hydrated during the day. Sunburn was a fucking thing, less atmosphere between you and those UV rays. Be ready for the temperature drop at night. And night falls with a thud when the sun dips below the mountains. Be wary of changing rockfaces. Mountains could be tricky bitches, and what was stable on one step could leave you tumbling the next. Plenty of practice. They had survival there down to a routine.

And for being giant metal sinkers, the Autobots ended up on the ocean a whole helluva lot. Keep on the fucking boat. Water and pressure were usually a minor inconvenience. Delicate components could survive space, they could survive pressure. The humans, though, were restricted to the narrow band at the surface. Will could scuba dive, was an advanced technical diver and then had all his Ranger training on top of it. Diego Garcia was a damn aircraft carrier gas station in the middle of the fucking Indian Ocean. NEST had the assistance of the world’s Navies with a simple request. Respect the ocean, but they had skills.

Sand. Ho boy, they were all over fucking sand. Most of Will’s deployments had been in one sandbox or another. Enough that he had his lucky scarf. Enough that he could stutter through conversations in simple Arabic or Farsi. It was a bit easier to die out there on the dunes than in some of the other terrains, but it was familiar. 

Arctic. Lennox was a Dakota boy, after all. He knew drifting snow. He had experienced the wind that tore across flat plains to hit you with enough force to knock you down, steal your breath and leave exposed skin frozen in under a minute. He had this. He had this…

This was a snowbound war game. The military was all over giving big ass multi-syllable names to what was really just tag, or hide and seek, or capture the flag on steroids. It got buy in from the troops, reinforced the lessons from briefings, and nothing taught better than experience. 

Lennox was duly prepared, looking like a manly ski bunny. His hat, scarf and goggles protected his head. He wore sturdy gloves that could convert to mittens, a warm overcoat with undershirt and a wicking layer, insulated snow pants over thermals, sturdy snow boots and light crampons for icy rocks. _I am a polar bear, in body and mind,_ he thought to himself. His pack was settled tightly to his spine with enough supplies for two days. He looked ready to cross-trek Alaska, not simply play rabbit for an afternoon. But to underprepare is a good way to end up underground.

Light flurries were falling, but their techs had assured that all forecasts said it was going to peter out before the evening. Will and Ironhide were bounding over a light dusting of snow, dry and drifting with the wind. They were the target. Their job was to get as far out ahead as possible and not be found, if they could also take out some of their pursuers, well, shit, that was a bonus

Will was clambering up over boulders and rock formations, ducking between thick pines and scraggly, stubborn, high latitude scrub. It would negate the use of their pursuers’ alt modes or snow machines. All advantages to the humans, or just disadvantages to the mechs, that he could get. 

Unfortunately, every human advantage also counted against Ironhide. The Weapons Specialist was trekking after his human partner, a few lengths behind due to altering his path to stay on track with Lennox. Greater size and more mass needed bigger pass-throughs. Obstacles that Lennox could climb would simply crumble under Ironhide’s weight, leaving a perfect trail for their trackers. So ‘Hide often needed to backtrack and find new routes, then struggle to focus his scanners on Lennox through the reflections and refractions of the fluttering ice crystals falling through the air. Thermal scanners were no real help, either. Though he kept his temperature display as an overlay on his HUD, his processors shuttled it to low priority attention. Lennox was well insulated, keeping his body heat contained and him relatively comfortable. It meant the human was only the barest glow of warmth on Ironhide’s thermal scanners, mostly his face and the little puffs of air as he exhaled. To compensate for the dearth of tracking options, Ironhide was being inordinately quiet, keeping his gripes to the subvocal, his audio receptors dialed to their highest sensitivity. With the snow masking scanners, he needed every chance to track Will by sound. 

Lennox summited a low rise, pulling his scarf down to take a few breaths unimpeded by cloth. Looking back for Ironhide, he was astounded how all that black managed to vanish in the shadows of rock and tree unless Will specifically searched for him. He waited for blue optics to meet his eyes, then gave a quick nod, turning to slide down the incline into the next depression.

His heel hit the base of the stone, not with a muffled whump of dirt, but a sharp kkssk.

“Will!” Ironhide barked.

That was an odd sound. Lennox paused, his feet on the ground but his thighs and back still leaning at an angle against the boulder. “Huh?” he asked quietly, confused at Ironhide’s sudden volume.

“Don’t move. Just… don’t move.”

Though Lennox could not see Ironhide behind and to his left, he could hear him suddenly moving closer, abandoning stealth. He felt his skin prickle, adrenaline surging. “What’s wrong,” he asked, in a forced monotone, trying to keep frozen in place. He arched his back a fraction, plastering to the stone he had just come down, and flattening his palms on the cold rock. The ground beneath his feet made a sharp pop.

“Ice,” Ironhide hissed.

Will’s eyes darted left and right. Shit. The little ravine he had dropped into was too flat, too perfect, as far as he could turn his eyes in both directions. He had just jumped down into a frozen river channel. The pop beneath his feet became popcorn. “’Hide…” he breathed.

“Just another nanonclick, I’ve got you,” Ironhide rumbled gently. The fact that Lennox could hear the mech trying to keep him calm only ratcheted up his anxiety.

The sound of mechanics, a growling engine and motion on stone seemed just above him. Lennox clawed his fingers against the rock and dared to glance up.

It sounded like a gunshot.

Falling. Pain. Cold. Shock. Cold cold quiet.

The ice beneath his feet gave. His pack scraped and rattled as he slid. Arms out, hands made contact with ice, but could not hold. Will fell through, head cracking against rock. He managed not to gasp when the water hit his chest and closed over his head. Stunned by freezing water, stunned by the knock to his skull. Limp.

No. Limp was death. Move, Ranger!

Lennox kicked, clawed, rolled from his back to a normal swimming position. Keep the brightness above. His pack, his clothes, his gear all weighed him down. He felt the pressure in his ears. It was painful, but only just. That meant the river was maybe Olympic pool depth, but over his head would be more than enough to kill him. Motion, he felt motion. He struggled, fighting the pull downriver, away from the light of freedom, of air. 

Ironhide snarled, his fingers missing Lennox by scant feet when the Ranger dropped below the ice. A starburst of red slashed across the mech’s thermal scanners, Will’s body heat stolen away by ice cold water. ‘Hide tracked the signal as it moved downriver, his spark clenched at the speed. His cannon swung online even as he started racing down the bank.

Lennox could hold his breath for three minutes on a good day, with some prep time. His present situation had neither of those factors in his favor. The current and his pack kept him near the river bottom. Dark below, keep the light above. He kicked, pulling hard with his arms. The current bounced him off a submerged boulder. 

One low-powered shot from Ironhide’s cannon obliterated the ice in the next section of the river. If Will could get to the surface, he could catch a breath. 

A roar and the water around him pulsed. Lennox could feel it in his ears, his sinuses, his chest. He snorted bubbles. Beyond the sound of rushing water, he heard the crack and crash of ice. No closer to the surface, despite his fighting. A sharp jerk abruptly stopped his body and Will thrashed against the straps of his pack. 

Ironhide pounded down the bank, if he could not catch Will on his first attempt, it would be over. His engine snarled. At least Lennox still showed on thermals, despite his temperature quickly fading down the scale. Even as ‘Hide watched, Will’s temperature plummeted, shifting steadily down to pale reds, orange…

The pack was stuck, and the current kept pulling Lennox against the straps. He exhaled a tiny bit through his nose, enough to push back the burn in his lungs and pressure to breathe. _Stop. Breathe… not yet. Think._ Will needed to get out of the tangle of straps. Waist first, wet gloves pawed at the clasp. It resisted, or his fingers were slow to comply. Lennox stilled and dragged focus, he knew the shape, squeezed the top and bottom… and it came free. He let the current pull him and relaxed his arms. That was enough to slip clear. One boot hit a rock. Lennox aligned his body with the current and kicked off desperately upwards.

The chronometer on Ironhide’s HUD ticked with the time Lennox was submerged. The mech dove in a tumble over a ridgeline, rolling and coming back to a run. He was nearing the end of the broken ice. Will had not made it to the surface, a yellow smudge overlaid on Ironhide’s visual feed was about twice the mech’s arms reach upstream. Ironhide needed to go now. 

Lungs burning, Will closed his eyes just long enough to banish that panic. Don’t inhale. He snorted another few bubbles and the urge abated slightly. The cold burned over his whole body, pins all in his skin and feeling like an ax in his skull. His movements were sluggish. Tired…

The ice gave out under the human, but it exploded under Ironhide. He judged Will’s trajectory and leaped onto the river. He broke through like nothing, sinking up to his chest. His pedes hit the rocky bottom and he felt the current tug at the edges of his plating. Ironhide growled, spark flaring and engine running hotter to compensate for the thermal shock. Chunks of ice the size of small alt modes were being carried towards him on the current, obscuring Will’s thermal signal.

Drowning was not how Will wanted to die. He knew how to swim. The thought of knowing his eventual breath would carry water into his lungs, suffocating him as he spasmed was terrifying. Except right now, it wasn’t. Right now, he was calm, drowsy…

Ironhide leaned down, ice chunks crashing into his chest and shoulders. They piled up on the unbroken ice sheet behind him, milling around like threatening demolition derby vehicles. To reach the river bottom with his hands, his helm was half submerged. Little icebergs cracked and rammed against his crests and audios, obliviously carried by the current. A few times the mech saw static when a large ice chunk hit a sensitive node or processor. That was superfluous, he focused the entirety of his attention on the small glow of Lennox on thermals. Predictive algorithms tracked the currents, the eddies around the river bottom and generated the likely path. Ironhide shifted his stance to ensure the current brought the Ranger to his open hands.

The surface was right there. He could see light scattering between moving ice. Will twitched, entirely uncoordinated. He just had to get there, but his coat and boots were so fucking heavy. His chest hurt like he had been punched, like some icy succubus was sitting on his sternum. One more desperate reach for the surface. He could not fight the instinct to breathe forever… but then his body hit something hard.

A sudden crack against his audial crest, an oversized ice chunk hit with enough force to make his footing shift. Ironhide’s visual processors blanked for a critical nanoclick. His gyros rattled and the mech felt a rush of frigid water surge beneath the protection of his helm. An image faded into focus just in time for him to shift his hands, catching a jumble of human and cloth. Ironhide straightened quickly, lifting Will clear of the water.

Air. Fuck. Lennox gasped and dragged air into his lungs, embracing the vertigo and dizziness. Desperately shoving his goggles up and off his face, panic made his movements sloppy and the little bit of water trapped in the eye protection terrifying. He sobbed, then breathed heavily, anything more was too much. Hands clamped onto the only solid thing in his world.

“Lennox,” Ironhide rumbled, optics tracking to trembling fingers gripping at the plating seam of his wrist. The human was shaking in his palms, body temperature well below normal But the Ranger was breathing. 

“‘Hide…” Will panted, slurred around chattering teeth. “Thank… thanks….” He rolled closer to Ironhide’s chest, closing his eyes. 

His steps were not as steady as he would have liked as he walked out of the river. “Stay with me, Lennox,” Ironhide growled. Something in his helm crackled with a burn of static as water sluiced from his frame. He hissed with a pained grimace.

“You alright?” Will stared up, taking all his strength to focus.

Ironhide cleared the riverbanks and sank to his knees. Gyros had been rattled and his HUD was a flickering mess of static. “What you asking me for?” he grated with a crackle in his vocalizer.

Despite the blue of his lips, Lennox smirked. “Did you Olly Olly oxen free?”

Optics flickered in concern. “Lennox, did you hit your head?”

“No,” Will paused, giving the wracking shivers free rein. “Wait. Yes… But… it’s… little kid thing. All clear. Game over. Come out.” He jerked, muscles trying desperately to warm him under the soaked and freezing clothes. “We gotta call this.” Lennox’s body temperature continued to drop, the cold creeping up his numb extremities. Even his core was chilling quickly, leaving him stiff and stupid. The Ranger needed help.

Ironhide huffed, he agreed with all his spark. He tapped into his comms, but all he got was a screech in his audio systems followed by silence. “Fraggitall…” Flurries whirled, the wind kicking up. Cracking chest plating, he gunned his engine, shifting Lennox closer to warmth. “Comms are glitching.” A stuttering diagnostic sweep showed a number of subsystems knocked offline, and a large swath of charred circuitry in his comms array.

“Fuck.” Will hissed and pushed blindly away from Ironhide. “Fuck, ouch… shit. Wait.”

“What?” Optics dimmed while the mech tried to reroute repair nanites, setting comms and navigation to highest priority. He looked at the Ranger squirming in his hands, uncoordinated but away from warm systems.

“Slow,” Will murmured. “Chilled blood to heart… can stop.”

Ratchet would have cuffed Ironhide across the helm. The mech snorted, the hot puff of smoke a distinct cloud in the snowy air. “Just stay with me.” He brought Lennox closer to his chest to shield him from some of the wind, but throttled back his engine. 

“Where would I go?”

“Shelter.” The mech’s core programming had his cannons snapping, and he threw the line of code to quiet them. Cold was not an enemy he could target lock. “You need out of those clothes,” Ironhide rumbled. Under any other circumstances, the wry look from Lennox cradled in his palms would have been laughable.

“Frying pan, fire…” Will mumbled, his body tremoring harder. “Hypothermia, frostbite?”

_True._ Ironhide struggled back to his feet, glad that his gyros stopped screaming alerts at him. He flicked scanners over the river, hoping to catch a sign of the Ranger’s pack. The ice and snow and rushing water did nothing to make it easy. After barely a click, Ironhide gave up. No way he was going to leave Will to attempt retrieval, anyway. They needed to move, either meeting their trackers or to somewhere they could hole up and wait for extraction. “Hold on,” he growled at the too still form. Will’s eyes opened slowly as he nodded. Ironhide turned his back to the prevailing wind, putting his frame between Lennox and the worst of the blowing snow. The mech stretched scanners, searching for the nearest area he could transform without a boulder jammed into his undercarriage. He moved in a straight line, laying simple dead-reckoning data over his corrupted navigational systems. Though Ironhide did not know where the river mess started, he knew he was moving directly away, with a heading of 87° at fifteen miles per hour.

“’Hide,” Lennox breathed, a plea in the quiet tone. The air was colder than the water, and his clothing was starting to freeze against skin.

“Frag, just a few more clicks,” Ironhide replied, ready to transform even if it stuck him with his cab at a ridiculous angle. Audios caught a distinct crunch, the sensors and relays in his legs registering a shift in the ground composition. He kicked some of the snow away with one massive pede, and the crunch of gravel was not a processor glitch. “Hang on, Lennox.” Ironhide threw himself through his transformation sequence, carefully shifting around the Ranger. Parts settled into place, Ironhide’s tires on the gravel road and Will laying across the back seat. 

Lennox made a low whine, his entire body wracked with harsh shivers.

Ironhide’s spark twisted in its casing. “Lennox.” The man’s shaking calmed for a moment and he blinked at the roof of the cab. “Lennox,” the mech barked, gratified when Will jerked and seemed to manage focusing on the lights of his dashboard. “Out of those wet clothes.”

“F-ffuck…” Will struggled for coordination. He stripped his gloves, shoved away the goggles and yanked off the hat and scarf, just letting them plop into the footwell. His fingers fumbled on the snaps and zipper of his jacket. Will flopped back with a miserable sound.

“Ranger!” Ironhide snapped. He shifted his vents, letting some warmer air gently circulate through the cab.

Lennox yelped, pawing anew at the jacket. Ironhide’s chronometer ticked steadily forward. Finally, Will managed to get the jacket open. He pulled on the passenger headrest to drag himself to sitting so he could shuck the coat. That was dropped as well, but at least Will found some momentum. Both undershirts off, he turned to the boots. The laces were hell. It nearly came to taking the blade at his thigh to the damn things, but Ironhide had gently hinted that he lacked the coordination to safely use the knife. Will snarled weakly and soldiered on. Boots, socks, both made it off. Will curled in around a chest clenching spasm, head down, arms tucked around his core.

“Almost there, William,” Ironhide rumbled, rocking on his shocks in the touch he could not offer from his alt mode. 

Lennox scrubbed over his face and through his hair, eyes squeezed shut and jaw grinding to keep his teeth from knocking with the shivers. Every limb was trembling, his body desperately trying to generate heat through muscle movement.

“Strip, and you can rest,” ‘Hide murmured.

“Just…” Will protested weakly.

Ironhide shifted sharply on his shocks, Will flopped onto his back. “Finish.”

Thankful for drawstrings, Lennox slowly undid his pants. He slammed a heel into the seat to arch his hips up, shoving the wet cloth down his thighs. A few minutes wriggling and kicking like a toddler finally got everything off. A cracked sound of feeble triumph was all Will could manage. He turned to his side, curled into the fetal position with his spine against the seatback. Nude, skin stark white from the cold, lips and fingertips blue, he closed his eyes and let the shivers run.

“Easy, Lennox,” Ironhide purred, sighing through his vents. He popped open the footwell compartment in front of Will, revealing a large blanket, warmed by the heat of his spark beneath the cab. “Wrap up, and rest.”

Will mewled, grabbing the blanket and burrowing beneath it.

Huffing through his vents, Ironhide kept the bulk of his scanners on his human charge. The rest of his attention was on directing repair nanites, tracking the weather and temperature conditions, and trying to determine their location. Processors replayed Will’s pre-training briefing. ‘We edge up against private property on this one. I’m not gonna be happy if you get me a book of paperwork by stumbling into someone’s playground. Stay in bounds.’ The mech grumbled, rocking a few feet forward and analyzing the ground beneath his tires. Definitely a gravel road. Highly likely they had stumbled onto that private property. Roads went somewhere. As the snow got heavier and the wind strengthened, remaining in place was becoming more and more untenable. Comms were still useless for calling extraction, and even a Cybertronian could be challenged if buried in drifted snow. Ironhide started to suspect that their best option lay in picking a direction and hoping to find either a destination or be led back to civilization.

Ironhide turned his full attention back to his human charge. The man had wrapped the blanket over himself, even his head, only leaving a slip of his nose uncovered. Coarse compared to Ratchet’s, but Ironhide set the breadth of his scanners flicking over Will. Heart rate and breathing steady. He had rolled the blanket edge beneath his hip and moved to again press his spine flush to the back of the seat. Legs drawn up and crossed at the ankles, Lennox had his arms curled over his chest with fingers clamped to his shoulder and the little knot of blanket at his chin. The mech found the similarity to an ancient human burial position utterly terrifying, and the only comfort was the sensation of near constant shivers that vibrated against his sensors. Will was alive and his inherent survival responses were fighting hard to keep him that way.

Daring to increase the flow of warm air throughout his cab, Ironhide gently rumbled “Will?”

Lennox made a miserable sound but lifted his head, letting the blanket shift and reveal his eyes.

The way that soft tone seemed to weave through his spark and squeeze was something Ironhide would have to deal with later. Probably.

“I’m here,” Will mumbled. He uncurled a fraction, and Ironhide could sense him moving joints with purpose instead of just the reflexive spasms. Lennox wriggled onto his back, keeping his blanket cocoon wrapped close. He bowed his spine, arching up as he ground his jaw. “Fuck. Circulation’s come back. Everything burns.”

The TopKick rolled forward a fraction on his tires, desperate for some sort of action. Even the warm sanctuary of his cab seemed to be tormenting Lennox. He felt useless, recriminations surging like glitchmice in the lower levels of his processor. Failed his charge, they chittered, too slow, could have lost him. A proper Guardian would not have his human partner hissing and flexing red, frost nipped digits and cursing the burn of abused nerve fibers. 

Will wrapped his fingers around his throat, trying to warm them gently with his own body heat, but minimize the tight, hot feeling. He paused and turned to the dashboard. “Any evac?”

Snarling, Ironhide tried to online his comms. Another electric short in the circuitry had him flinch, the entire cab twitching. “Comms are still offline. Navigation can’t pinpoint us, either.”

“Now what?” Lennox asked, astoundingly unaccusatory in his tone.

Ironhide routed heat through his plating, rapidly melting some of the accumulated snow from his frame. “The snow is falling faster. We found a gravel road,” he growled softly. “Likely private.”

“Any port in a storm, ‘Hide,” Will hedged his vote.

The idle of his engine shifted to a deeper tone, decision made. “Forward or reverse?”

Will scrubbed some of the dampness from his hair with a blanket corner, then frowned at the ceiling. “Flip a coin? Fuck it, forward, mech.”

The TopKick engine roared, action, he finally had a heading. Flexing scanners back to their fullest extent, Ironhide started moving forward. He quickly determined that the optimal technique for staying on the snowed under road was tactile, focusing on the feeling of gravel beneath his tires. When the feel shifted, when the sound went from the gravel crunch to a softer earthen tone, he corrected back. 

Weather, mixed with touch and go driving, resulted in utterly glacial progress. After a slow four miles of travel, Lennox fell asleep. That gave Ironhide’s spark a jolt as he felt the human go lax and quiet. After the nanoclick for scanners to reassure him that Will was still among the functioning, Ironhide rumbled and pressed onward. Miles continued to tick by like vorns. The wind picked up, hurling tiny ice crystals at his frame with surprising speed. Individually a single snowflake was nothing, but the continuous onslaught of little thermal hindrances started to accumulate. Ironhide revved his engine harder, also cycling the power normally routed through his cannons to his plating.

Scanners straining, Ironhide was soldiering on. With each metric he was silently fuming at his comms and navigational systems. With each correction to stay on gravel he was hoping for the path to meet a paved road to civilization that would see to Lennox. Instead, he had to suddenly lock his wheels when a structure seemed to materialize out of swirling snow. The bump had Lennox nearly tumble into the footwell, gripping the driver’s seat as he snapped awake. 

“The fuck?” Will groaned, bleary and obviously disoriented.

“Apologies, Lennox,” Ironhide rumbled, having to pitch his vocalizer above the roar of his own engine. “It might not be inhabited, but I think we’ve found shelter for you.”

“If it has at least three walls, I’m in.” Lennox sat up, wrapping the blanket around himself. He looked down at the piles of soaked clothes in the footwell. Until they could dry off his gear and get some of that shit on his body, he was stuck with just the blanket. “What have we got?” He peered through the windshield at the structure, white siding, he thought.

Ironhide dropped on his shocks. “A building, with an electronic hangar door.” A few quick frequency attempts and he had the code. The door, a white door on white siding in a snowstorm, creaked and rattled upwards, fighting the wind.

To Will’s eyes, it looked like a room just materialized in the shifting whiteness. Ironhide shifted forward with bare inches of clearance, trying to get the cab into shelter as soon as possible. The TopKick had barely cleared the threshold when he had to jerk to a stop. This time, leaning forward to peer through the windshield, the sudden braking did have Lennox flop into the footwell in a tangle of limbs and cloth.

“Fraggitall,” Ironhide cursed.

Lennox sat up, struggling to get his pinned arms clear to pull himself back onto the seat. “Fuck, that was the wet clothes,” he groused. “Why?”

“It’s occupied,” Ironhide huffed.

Will leaned over the driver seat and grunted. “Oh, I get it.” The building housed a little floatplane, taking up nearly all of the available floorspace. Fishing gear, canoes and other rich people toys lined the walls. “Some rich sportsman’s toy shed,” he sighed. “At least Uncle Sam will clear squatting for a night. I’m not dying over someone’s shit.”

“Optimus would complete the forms himself,” Ironhide agreed. He rocked on his drivetrain, trying to calculate how both he and the little plane could occupy the small space.

“You need me out?” Will asked, getting an annoyed snort from ‘Hide, along with something uncomplimentary.

“Rather you stay with me until I can close the door,” Ironhide huffed. “But I need to remove the plane.”

Lennox had already moved, tugging the door handle and pushing on the door, but Ironhide held it fast. “Come on, ‘Hide…” Will murmured tiredly.

Ironhide hesitated. “There is no heat and concrete floors.”

For a moment, Will stared at the door in baffled confusion, but then he understood. “It will be uncomfortable, but I can stand on frozen concrete for a few minutes,” Lennox soothed, turning to look at the dashboard. “My body can do thermal tricks just like yours.”

“You’re small. You have less thermal inertia.”

“Uh… thanks, Ratchet,” Will snorted, brushing the door with his palm. This time when he tried the handle, the door opened. He smiled for a brief second, then the frigid wind snuck into the cab. “Ok, making this quick.” The wet clothes were gathered in a hasty bunch and shoved out onto the floor. Will followed them quickly, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. 

Ironhide rolled back a fraction and transformed, flying through his sequence with more sparks than usual. He snorted, watching Will slap a light switch as he backed away from the door and clear of the aircraft.

“Dakota, remember?” Will called over the wind sneaking cold fingers around Ironhide. Muscle memory still knew the odd little walk of bare feet on cold ground, or the icy patio to bring in the dogs when too lazy to put on shoes. Toes up and Lennox just tipped from his heel pads to the balls of his feet.

As Ironhide ducked into the hanger, he focused on his HUD’s thermal overlay of his human partner. True to Will’s word, feet and hands were chilled, but his body centered the warmth in his core. The Ranger would survive the time it took to find handholds that would not damage the aircraft and cart the thing outside. Ironhide made a nominal effort to tie the machine down on the leeward side of the building, but he was not going to waste time on an airframe. Old grudges died hard.

Will took the time while Ironhide pulled the floatplane out of the hanger to make a quick circuit around the building. It got him out of the direct line of the door and getting pelted with snow. Along the back there was a cupboard with a few nonperishables, a hotplate and, dear sweet merciful lord, a coffeepot. He glanced around for a sink or some bottled water, but hell, he would take melting snow for a hot coffee. But that would be later. As he chilled, Lennox bounced in place willing Ironhide to hurry. 

Ironhide returned, stooping in through the doorway, then pinging the lift to lower the door back into position. 

Once the door clicked into place, Will made a rough sigh. While it was comfortable in Ironhide’s cab, it was good that both of them were out of the weather. Lennox watched Ironhide lower himself to sit in the middle of the hanger. The mech looked much more at ease than hunched beneath the rafters. Lennox padded over, his feet just starting to complain about the cold through the calluses of a life spent running. Whether they left by rescue or just daylight, either way, he needed to dry out his clothes so that he could get back into all of his wonderfully warm gear.

Will knelt by the pile of wet clothes. He started with properly dumping the water from his boots, and wringing out his clothes. Despite the best of intentions, he only made it through his pants and one of the undershirts before he stopped with a shudder. “Fuck,” he breathed, hands burning from the icy wetness. 

“What, Lennox?” Ironhide asked, optics intent.

“Nothing, just dealing with the laundry,” Will replied, fighting the snicker that Ironhide had every indication of a concerned dog, minus the perked ears. Taking a moment, he brought his hands back into the protective drape of the blanket, crossing his arms and holding his hands under his armpits.

Ironhide leaned back against an uncluttered wall, propping a leg and resting a massive forearm on his knee. “I could squeeze out the excess water, or dry them near my cannons.”

Shaking his head, Lennox let the laugh be voiced. Ironhide was in a disarmingly human position, and Will could not help finding the little moments when the mech had his guard down endearing. “Think you’d squish the zippers, or melt the synthetic fabric.” Braving the cold again, he finished wringing what moisture he could from the cloth. The gear was propped and hung on jury rigged clotheslines made from fishing rods that definitely cost upwards of five hundred dollars apiece. Given the circumstances, Will did not find it in his heart to care. He was fucking cold. Again. His eyes landed back on the coffee pot with a wanting little whimper.

“Enough, Lennox,” Ironhide growled gently, gesturing to come closer. 

“I know, I know,” Will said, with only the slightest chatter in his teeth. He pulled the blanket over his head and padded over to the coffee machine. “But I need something in my stomach. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

Ironhide’s engine rumbled moodily. “It’s barely past sundown. I know you have gone longer without food.”

“Liquid, Ironhide,” Will muttered, “Not submersion or in my lungs, preferably.” He plugged in the coffee pot and searched for supplies with desperate hope. “And sugar. Shivering takes energy.”

Grudgingly, scans of the human confirmed the rather urgent need for some sort of sustenance. Blood sugar was low and Lennox was slightly dehydrated. At least Will had not voiced complaints that his loaded pack had been lost. The mech snorted and flicked scanners over the cupboards and drawers, looking for the carbohydrate chains rather than making Will hunt. “Grounds and sugar. Lidded glass jars above you to the left. Water below the machine.”

“Thank fucking god.” Lennox threw together the supplies, evicting a desiccated spider carcass from a mug and staring at the pot as it brewed. He shifted the blanket to stand on a corner, at least keeping his feet directly off the concrete for a few minutes. Unfortunately, he nearly toppled over in the process. His head was getting hazy and his stomach was desperate for something, anything. Once brewed and as much sugar as would dissolve in the stuff, Will wrapped his hands around the mug and bathed in the steam with a shudder.

Optics narrowed to bright pricks, Ironhide gave the Ranger a moment to down his drink, then made an impatient click. “Lennox.”

“Ironhide.” Will parroted back, his world and attention narrowed to the little bit of warmth in his hands.

The mech made an expectant chirr, tipping his helm. Ironhide moved his arm from his raised knee. “You need off the floor.”

Lennox huffed, glancing around the room. “I know, but I’m not trapping you in truck mode for the duration.” 

“Come here,” Ironhide rumbled with a chuckle beneath the words. “You can take the rest of the coffee with you.”

“Did you just call me like a dog?” Will asked incredulously, shifting his weight to rotate where his cold feet touched the floor, but moving over to Ironhide. His footsteps became more unsteady as the trick to walking barefoot on near-frozen ground had a time limit. Having surpassed that, his soles were starting to feel that icy sting. When Ironhide lowered his hand in offering, that got the same baffled and doubtful gaze. “I thought the only one allowed to climb the sentient jungle gym was Annabelle.”

Optics flickered. “Consider this extenuating circumstances.” Ironhide twitched his fingertips. 

With an overly dramatic eyeroll, Will took the mech’s offer. Using a combination of his own power and ‘Hide’s literal guiding hand, the human clambered up and settled in a recline on Ironhide’s still upraised thigh. After taking a moment to re-burrito himself, he finished his coffee and cradled the still warm ceramic mug. Lennox gave one last full body shudder, but then seemed to settle. The mug’s tepid heat was quickly overshadowed by the gentle radiant warmth of Ironhide’s systems. He held out the empty cup and Ironhide took it with a quiet snort, setting it on a nearby shelf.

“Better?” Ironhide asked, with a twitch of his lip plates. The thermal scan still showed a strong heat gradient between Will’s core and his extremities, but it was shallowing. 

Lennox tipped his head back, resting it against Ironhide’s knee joint. He shifted, half sitting on the mech’s inner hip with his feet curled against the metal abdomen. “Yeah. Thank you for sharing the heat.”

“What else would I do with it?” Ironhide snorted. His optics and scanners tracked over Lennox, and he moved to press warm fingerpads over the blanket covering Will’s feet.

“Whu- hey?” But then Will’s body registered warmth on his very cold feet and he broke off with a contented purr.

Ironhide’s engine rumbled in amusement, kneading over feet and shins with exquisite care. Brown eyes watched him closely, curiously. He moved fingerpads upwards, shifting the blanket and delicately taking chilled hands between gentle metal digits. Will’s fingers shook a moment, then gripped at Ironhide’s, the Ranger meeting optics with an intense gaze. 

A few other areas still flagged as particularly cold. Ironhide moved his hands slowly, tactile sensors at their highest, ready to still at any gesture from Will asking him to stop. Lennox’s heartrate increased as metal hands moved up to frame his head. His eyes darted side to side, but the pheromones of fear and anxiety remained absent. Ironhide kept the heat of his plating subdued, tracing the shell of Will’s ear, one and then both. Finally, he slid fingertips around and where the last dampness of wet hair dribbled down the back of Will’s neck.

Will’s back arched. He took an unsteady breath and gripped at the plating of Ironhide’s wrist. Those brown eyes met bright blue optics, blinking slowly. “You’re… you’re treading into something else to do with it.”

That voice from Will made Ironhide’s engine give a rough, sudden rev.

“Oh,” Will breathed. He blinked rapidly, fingers tapping against Ironhide’s wrist. Suddenly, Lennox felt very cognizant of the fact that he was nude beneath that blanket. Tipping his head pressed an increasingly warm cheek against the mech’s palm.

Ironhide drifted his fingertip over the nape of Will’s neck, tracking the human’s increased heartrate, his short shallow breaths. His optics were bright, the blue flash deeper, waiting for Will to decide a boundary.

Clearing his throat, Lennox glanced up from under his brows, eyes wide. “Uh,” he stammered. He swallowed, a flash of teeth against his lower lip. “Anything on those comms?”

The sudden, unbidden wash of cold disappointment through Ironhide’s energy field had him snarling a particularly choice Cybertronian curse. “Self-repair nanites have been working on it,” he grated, lifting his helm and moving his hands to his thigh plating. His optics dimmed, focusing on trying to forcibly route the communications pathways. Something shorted near his audio receptor, a scattering of sparks and electricity crawling across the edging of his helm. He made a pained whistle, optics offlining for a brief second.

Lennox jerked upright at Ironhide’s sudden twitch and cringe. “Woah!” He let the blanket fall from his shoulders and reached to slide his palm over the silver components between Ironhide’s temple and jaw. “You took a beating,” he soothed, apologetic. The mech seemed to have paid dearly for getting Will from the river.

Ironhide’s engine hitched, frame shivering.

“Sorry!” Will yelped, moving his hand down over neck cabling. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” ‘Hide said, voice rough. His optics flashed brighter. “Just very sensitive,” he clarified with a deep thrum, before a sharp click quieted the rumble of his engine. Ironhide pulled his helm back, straightening back struts. Optics cut aside to glare at the floor. “Since…. You shouldn’t,” Ironhide huffed, the resonance dropping from his vocals.

“Ironhide.”

The mech grunted. “You don’t need to move. I’m not letting you freeze.”

Lennox laughed, a soft purr in his chest. “Ironhide,” he repeated, bringing his other hand to physically nudge Ironhide’s jaw until the mech relented and turned back to face him. “Ironhide, I wanted to know if the cavalry was imminent.”

Ironhide’s vocalizer reset with a scatter of static. 

“So it’s not a no,” Will murmured, dropping his voice to a lower register, “Just, want time to figure this out. Alright?” Optic controls spiraled, even a human could tell Ironhide was struggling for focus. Lennox ran his palms over Ironhide’s throat, quirking his lips in thought. “Short answers, hmm?”

That helm tipped in a slow nod.

“You’ve thought about this?”

Ironhide nodded.

“You’ve wanted this?”

Optics flashed and the engine growl vibrated through Will’s body. Ironhide returned his hands to Lennox, resting fingerpads lightly on shoulders and back.

“How long?” Will asked, softening the question by leaning closer, bumping his forehead against Ironhide’s cheek.

“I agreed to be your Guardian,” Ironhide growled.

Lennox moved to look at optics, one eyebrow quirked. “Well then, that does settle some things.”

“Will?”

“Here I was, thinking it’s a crazy fantasy.” He smirked, that _‘you should be running’_ sentiment ghosting though his expression. 

Ironhide made an incredulous trill. “Fantasy?” 

Will nodded and straightened, splaying his arms from his sides, palms up in offering. “The alien older than civilization, strong and loyal and built for protecting others, what I’ve strived for all my life.” He smirked and gestured to his small, organic and demonstrably vulnerable body. “Fantasy.”

The engine growl voiced that even if Lennox’s point was self-deprecation, Ironhide still found the Ranger alluring. “You are more than you think, Will.” ‘Hide gently explored skin with scanners and delicate fingertips. He followed the line of shoulders, finding muscled back and hard shoulder blades, tracked electrical nerve impulses and the tick of blood pulsing through vessels. “You have stood before the insurmountable. Numerous times. And survived.”

Will blushed, pausing to glance up for permission before shifting his weight forward to bare more if his back to contact. “Fighting is easy,” he murmured, tracing his palms over the red lettering from Ironhide’s alt mode that split across chest armor. Will looked up with something hesitant in his gaze.

Ironhide slouched further against the wall and helped Lennox settle against his chest. He stroked a warm fingerpad across the nape of Will’s neck, engine gunning at the sudden inhale from the Ranger. “And this isn’t?”

It took a second attempt for Will to get words through the groan. “Uh. Fuck, Ironhide. The internet is for porn. You got a head start on me.”

The mech barked a laugh, optics glimmering warmly. “Insurmountable?” he growled in a tease.

Will tipped his head, pushing his spine into touch in a rather feline gesture. Swallowing, he managed to understand Ironhide’s comment. He simply spread his arms. His full reach was over six feet, but it still barely spanned the mech’s shoulders. “You’ve got acreage. And I don’t have a heading.”

“Is there a request in that complaint?”

“You’re covered in armor,” the _fucker_ was unspoken, but clear in Will’s brief glare.

“I can feel your heartbeat against that armor,” Ironhide purred, “the warmth in your skin where you touch me.” He tipped his head, brushing the words directly against Will’s ear, gratified at the hard shudder from the human. “When your heart beats faster.”

“Since when were you poetic?” Will breathed, pushing into what his brain stalled at calling anything other than a kiss. He pet the cables and wiring at Ironhide’s throat to where they disappeared beneath chest plating. The rumble of Ironhide’s engine beneath dropped in tone and Will flashed a grin.

“If you like it,” Ironhide growled with one last bit of attention over the shell of Will’s ear. The man groaned, bumping his head against metal jaw and then burying his face against Ironhide’s neck. The small frame against his felt astounding, heartbeat and unsteady breaths and Lennox’s urgent shifts into contact. The mech bowed spinal struts, letting his armor flex beneath Will. He drew swirls and idle glyphs against bared skin, daring a subtle flick of static against the base of his spine. Lennox bucked his hips sharply, warm lips and teeth finding and then biting down on a neural line. Ironhide arched with a growl.

“Do that-”

“-again,” Ironhide rasped, his engine snarling hot and insistent. Grey fingers moving the blanket down further, the mech knew the warmth thrown by his systems was enough to keep Will warm. He kneaded the muscles of Will’s lower back, moving with the human as he moved. ‘Hide repeated the trick of charge over skin, stronger this time, following the dip of Will’s spine and around his hips.

“Same page,” Lennox chuckled, shaking his head. The blanket was dangerously close to baring his ass, but the Ranger found it difficult to care. He pulled his hips from the strong vibration of Ironhide’s systems, trying to resist rutting openly against his Guardian. At least for now. It took a moment to rediscover which line he had nipped in Ironhide’s throat, but it seemed that the exploration was worth it. After a few tries and the low, pleasured trills from Ironhide, his lips identified the tingling zing as he found the correct one. Will hummed against the fibers, pressing the flat of his tongue to what had to be electrical charge, then set teeth with a growl.

Warm, wet heat against his components was slightly foreign, but Ironhide found the eagerness of Lennox’s actions enthralling. His engine shifted in a low thrum, vents rumbling hard to shunt excess heat. The human’s vitals spiked when Ironhide bowed up, pressing armor back against skin. Ironhide’s lips pulled in a smirk, a careful palm holding Will close and preventing another retreat. 

Lennox made a rough groan and glanced up, brown eyes meeting bright optics. He hummed against that line, dragging a deeper rumble from Ironhide. Hips held gently against vibrating metal was enough to break his resolve, Will dropped his forehead to Ironhide’s shoulder, hips rolling against that warm, powerful chest. “Tell me you’re gonna respect me in the morning,” he breathed, clutching what handholds he could find on armor edges.

Ironhide laughed, a fond and rich sound. His spark pulsed hard and fast in his casing, chasing the organic heartbeat conducted through skin and armor. “My Charge, I’ve all but seduced you.”

Shifting under wandering metal fingers, feeling washes of heat and electric tingles over his whole body, Lennox took a long time to manage a response. “Think that…. Hope it was mutual.” He shifted upwards, arching his back to bring Ironhide’s hand down his body. Will nudged his head to Ironhide’s jaw. Stretching a little further moved the metal fingertips over his ass and between his legs. Going still, Will trembled, panting against Ironhide’s audio but giving him the moment to move his hand away. 

Ironhide clicked in surprise, processors stumbling over themselves at the intimate position in which Will had just placed himself. He hooked a finger, applying light pressure to warm skin and waited.

“Yes,” Will groaned, rocking back and grinding against Ironhide’s fingertip.

Engine gunning, Ironhide slowly flexed his finger counter to Will’s movement. He let a flickering buzz of charge skate over his plating, astounded when the human arched into touch, riding the motion and reaching his hand down to his cock. Stroking Will’s ass and thighs with his other hand, Ironhide watched Lennox drop inhibitions and buck urgently against him, pumping his cock between his own hand and Ironhide’s.

Bowing his spine to press harder into contact, Lennox managed a sharp glance at the mech. “How…” he panted, tight and shuddering, “How do I, bring you with me?” His hand faltered in its motions and Will made a desperate mewl.

Ironhide’s vocalizer reset. Lennox’s field surged to a level that even an inattentive Cybertronian would notice, hot and laced through with lust and genuine desire. Folding his own field around the human’s, stoking the feeling and weaving through his own affection was so natural, like perfect coding clicking into place. “Focus on me,” Ironhide growled. “On me watching your pleasure, watching you come undone. On how I feel as you move against me.” He let the locks on chestplating release, the spark chamber below that splitting just the slightest micron. It was just enough for his Charge’s field to brush through the outer corona of all that made Ironhide. “My spark will feel you, let go Will.”

“Shit,” Will gasped, dropping his head and moving his hand faster, driving hard. He trembled and bucked, pushing back hard to Ironhide’s touch. His Guardian rumbled his engine, and Will felt a surge of desire, like warmth and affection physically wrapping around his body. A few rough, twisting pulls around the head and he shook, leaning forward with a slow plateau of an orgasm. Will hissed through clenched teeth, catching himself with a palm centered on Ironhide’s chest.

A human overload was fascinating, a wash of heat over Will’s body and the slow brightening to a nova in his bioelectric field. Ironhide rode the pleasure, momentary disbelief when Lennox’s field synced and then locked into his, pulling him through a crescendoing overload.

Lennox let himself slump against Ironhide’s chest, panting hard. He rolled his shoulders as he caught his breath, listening to the rev of Ironhide’s engine settling back from redline. Drifting his palms over plating, he made a curious tone. Another shift of his hands, bracketing the centerline of Ironhide’s armor, and he breathed a laugh as the mech arched with a rough warble. Will looked up, carefully sliding his thumbs along that thin seam. There was a sensation there, like a surge, a warm wash that shifted over his hands in waves. “You are a heartbeat,” Will purred.

Twitching his helm and rebooting his optics, Ironhide covered Lennox again with his palm, gently rubbing shoulders. “Sparkpulse,” he corrected, humming when the Ranger turned to kiss one of his knuckles.

“Mmm, going to need more info,” Will conceded. “And Sarah…”

“I will be with you when you tell her, Lennox…” Ironhide murmured softly, guilt pulsing through his field. 

The near hysterical laughter from Will was a surprise. “Shit, glad to know you don’t listen in on us in the bedroom.”

“Lennox?” Ironhide asked warily. He knuckled up Will’s chin to meet eyes.

“She talks in her dreams, ‘Hide,” Will snickered. “She might be mad I went first, but she’s gonna be onboard.”

Ironhide’s engine gunned, but he scrubbed a hand over his faceplates. “Sweet Primus…”

Chuckling as he pulled the blanket up over his hips, Will squirmed a bit and got comfortable on Ironhide’s chest. He tried to muffle a jaw crackling yawn, but Ironhide hummed and brushed a fingerpad through his hair.

“You should sleep, my Charge.”

“Mmm. You’re fine like this?”

Ironhide snorted a brief puff from his nasal plates. “I have recharged in significantly worse conditions. You had a lot today. Sleep.”

“Yessir,” Lennox snarked, but once he stopped fighting sleep, he was out.

oOo

Ironhide onlined grudgingly, his comm snapping to life with a curious ping from Ratchet. Self-repair nanites had obviously completed their work at some point in the night. ‘Hide huffed and sent back their location, and a file dump of the previous day’s happenings, minus the other more personal escapades. The medic acknowledged, but his snarl that both man and mech would get a thorough looking over managed to be conveyed even through the brief data transfer.

Epps then hijacked the comm line with a scathing rant, he probably made Ratchet proud.

Lennox was still asleep against Ironhide’s chest, the mech’s hand with him beneath the blanket, palm curled around Will’s spine. ‘Hide traced a fingerpad over Lennox’s neck, purring possessively when the Ranger shuddered and arched into touch. 

Will opened his eyes and rolled onto his stomach, blinking up at ‘Hide with a still-sated little lip quirk. “Hmm?”

“Apologies, my Charge,” Ironhide murmured, tipping his helm to press a kiss to Will’s bared shoulder.

“What?” Lennox asked, letting his eyes close while he brushed his cheek against Ironhide’s jaw.

The mech switched Epps from internal to external comm systems. Lennox’s shocked expression drew a low, affectionate laugh from Ironhide.

“ _Fuck, Lennox you fucker, you better fucking answer me or when I find you, you’re so far beyond fucked that-”_

“Well, that certainly illustrates the versatility of the word…” Lennox cut in, stemming the tide.

“ _Thank fucking…_ ” Epps snarled, “ _We’re on our way, about five more minutes._ ”

“We can rendezvous…” Will tried, wide eyes darting up to Ironhide. The mech only smirked, completely unhelpfully.

“ _You think I am waiting any longer to kick your lily-white ass? You scared the shit out of us when you vanished_.”

Will snorted. “Yeah, like it was a fun vacation.” Ironhide made an affronted trill, but Lennox just licked his fingertip and traced down the center seam of the mech’s armor. Plating vibrated enough to rattle and Will looked far too smug.

Bobby was quiet for a moment too long, finally asking more gently, “ _But you’re alright?”_

“Yeah.” Will grinned and shook his head. “Yeah. Just need to get clothes back on.”

“ _Oh really? I didn’t know it could work-_ ”

“Get your head out of your ass, Tech Sergeant,” Will growled, sparing a mortified glance up at Ironhide. “Five minutes, copy.” He made a slicing motion over his throat and ‘Hide cut the comm connection. Will grumbled inarticulate curses. Bobby was getting his ass kicked right back. And that shit was on an open line, at that. Fucking hell.

Ironhide made a low warble, questions hovering in his expression. “You regret it?”

“No.” Lennox shifted to his knees, bare and vulnerable in front of his Guardian. “This is new,” he murmured, cradling Ironhide’s jaw with both palms and kissing his lower lip. “Between us. But Ironhide, before they get here. Why?”

The mech reared his helm back and rasped in confusion. “Why what?”

“‘Hide, ‘Hide,” Will pressed his hand to armor. He could still push his sternum directly over the mech’s spark. “Why last night?”

Blue optics flickered and dimmed. “Yesterday I almost lost you.”

Lennox chuckled, nudging his forehead against metal and gratified when Ironhide brushed a fingertip down his spine. “So you jumped.”

“Seem to remember you jumping as well,” Ironhide countered in a low, sultry rumble.

“I almost died!” Will snarked

“Thanks.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Will laughed.

‘Hide growled a purr, fingers slowly drifting over Will’s body. He pulled away enough to give the man a delicate headbutt. “Get dressed, soldier.”

Lennox grinned and climbed down Ironhide’s frame, taking the blanket as an afterthought. Apparently Cybertronian systems running on high all night was more than enough to get the hanger interior sufficiently warm. He pulled on his pant layers and sat to don the boots. Will grabbed his watch from the piles and settled it on his wrist. After a moment of consideration, he glanced up at Ironhide with a wicked smirk. “We have time for one more round before they get here?”

**Author's Note:**

> Dearest April was having a terrible time, and I offered a prompt to try and distract. The convo essentially went as follows:  
> me - give me a prompt.  
> april - Iron/Will  
> me - ok.... like anything... word? Mood? Iron/Will.... Tangle? Ice? Mistaken identity? There was ONLY ONE BED?!?  
> april - Not fuck or die. But, ice, finding shelter, only one bed, tangled for warmth.... other things.  
> me - So. All of them. Like every example. Got it.  
> april - I left out mistaken identity.  
> me - ....true. point.
> 
> For you, April.


End file.
